How They Were Banned from that One Book Store
by Jedi Annie Scrambler
Summary: I asked for your help getting a book off the top shelf and and you laughed at my taste and called me a nerd so I shoved you into a table of nonfiction best-sellers and that's how we both got banned from the quirky community bookstore AU
1. How They Were Banned from that One Book

Belle French glared across the street at Writ and Wisdom, her once favorite bookshop, from which she was now banned.

"This is all your fault," she informed the man on the bench next to her.

"You were the one you asked for help getting your book, I fail to see how it's my fault," snapped the man in a Scottish brogue.

Fifteen minutes ago, Belle had been inside her beloved Writ and Wisdom, standing on her tip toes trying to reach a book. The Restaurant at the End of the Universe by Douglas Adams, to be exact. Not knowing she'd live to regret it, she asked the man to her right if he'd help her reach it.

He wasn't much taller than her, but since her fingertips just barely grazed the spine, she knew he could be of help. And he was ridiculously handsome, so there was that.

"Excuse me," Belle said, "Could you help me reach that book there?"

She pointed. The man, suit clad and cane bound, retrieved it for her.

"Douglas Adams?" he quirked up an eyebrow before chuckling, "Not exactly hard literature, but perfect for someone like you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Belle demanded, "Someone like me?"

The man's evil grin only widened, "I think young people like you would say, a nerd?"

"A nerd?!" Belle was aware of her voice echoing though out the store but she didn't care.

"Indeed, dearie."

With the strength of anger, Belle put both hands on his shoulders, shoving him into the table of non-fiction best sellers.

What followed was expected. Both continued yelling at one another, even as the bookshop owner marched them outside and informed them that neither was allowed to enter the shop again.

"If you hadn't antagonized me, I wouldn't have pushed you- which was well deserved might I add," Belle snapped.

"Maybe you should learn to control your temper. Might I suggest anger management classes?"

"You are a bastard Mr.- Hey, I don't even know your name. If I'm going to despise you properly, I need to know you name."

"Mr. Gold," he said, "And you are?"

"Belle French," she paused before adding softly, "I hope I didn't hurt you."

"It takes more than one tiny woman to hurt me, Miss French," Mr. Gold inclined his head, "Although I thank you for your concern, even if it is a little ill placed."

"Well maybe," Belle didn't look at him, "I could make you some coffee, to make up for it? My place is just around the corner."

"I think my scheduled might allow that," Mr. Gold said.

Belle stood, followed by Mr. Gold, who offered her his arm.

"If you're wondering, I still hate you," she said as they walked to her house.

"I would expect nothing less."


	2. Of All the Bookstores in All the World

Mr. Gold had never considered himself a ladies man, women often only found themselves attracted to him once they'd discovered his net worth. Nevertheless, that didn't mean he was unattractive to the female form, particularly brown hair.

This weakness was how he found himself with a kink in his neck, banned from his favorite bookstore, and in the home of the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

It had started when he'd spotted her among the stacks. Slowly trailing her finger across the spines, it was the perfect angle for him to see the way the sun light her hair and the way her blue eyes sparkled reading the covers.

Leaning on his cane, he made his way over to stand next to her, pretending to also search the books. It was then that she begun her attempts to reach a novel on the top shelf, and being head and shoulders smaller than he, was failing at it.

"Excuse me," the beautiful woman said, turning, inexplicably to him, "Could you help me reach that book there?"

Dumb struck by her soft smile, he silently retrieved the book. Then he felt obligated to make some sort of comment, otherwise, she might think he was mute.

"Douglas Adams?" he quirked up an eyebrow before chuckling, "Not exactly hard literature, but perfect for someone like you."

It was like watching himself in an out of body experience, he could feel himself began to be a jerk, but he couldn't stop it.

The woman narrowed her eyes, "What's that supposed to mean? Someone like me?"

He should have said anything else. He could have said, someone as beautiful as you, or someone as wise-looking as you, but instead he said the worst thing possible.

He felt his snarl widen, enunciating, "I think young people like you would say, a nerd?"

"A nerd?!" her voice was loud, accented, and reverberating through out the store.

"Indeed, dearie," he dug himself into a deeper hole.

That was when she shoved him into a table. They continued to yell insults at one another, even as the owner forced them outside, explaining loudly that neither party were allowed back in. Which was unfortunate, Mr. Gold was fond of this shop, and had had several book signing there.

He doubted he would be invited back.

They exchanged more snide remarks on a bench outside and he'd gathered her name, Belle. Belle, beauty incarnate, and it suited her. It had been utterly surprised when she asked him home for coffee.

Not even to a shop for coffee, but to her house, he marveled as she lead him back to her apartment. Now he sat, while she put the pot on to boil, trying to keep his shaking hands at bay.

"How do you take your coffee? Or do you prefer tea?" Belle asked.

Mr Gold blinked at her before digesting her words enough to answer, "Tea, actually."

She smiled again, and he looked behind him to see if she had a cat or something. But there was none.


	3. They Managed not to Break Anything

It had been two weeks since Mr. Gold had last seen Belle. They'd had their tea, shared some light banter, and he'd departed. There had been no exchange of numbers, no plans made to get evicted from the local art museum and Mr. Gold took this as a sign that she wasn't interested in his company.

That was until he caught her waving at him across a crowded coffee shop.

"Mr. Gold!" She cried as he approached, "If you're looking for a seat, I think the only empty one is across from me. You're welcome to take it if you wish."

He very much wished. Setting his coffee on the table, he sat down, thanking her.

"May I ask what you're reading?" he queried.

Belle narrowed her eyes, "Are you going to mock me for it?"

"Not this time," he promised, and she handed the book over.

"It's Heroes and Villains by R. S. Gold, are you familiar with it?"

The well worn book felt heavy in his hands. Remus Shaun Gold was very familiar with it.

"I have a coworker who's quite fond of it," he replied.

Not a lie, Mallory Finchet was very fond of the novel that had made her the most sought after editor at Mills Publishing. But, nevertheless, Mr. Gold wanted nothing more than to move away from the subject for his best selling fantasy book.

"I thought I might find you reading one of those Grey books that are all the rage," he said.

"Gray books- ?" Belle frowned in confusion, hen rolled her eyes, "You mean _Fifty Shades of Grey_? Hardly. I wouldn't read that trash."

"Really? You seemed like the kind of woman who likes it rough- or was that someone else who pushed me into a table?" he quipped, and, miracle of miracle, she started to laugh.

"That is true," she giggled, smile lighting up her face, "But I fail to see what's so romantic about stalking and abuse, that's not love."

He inclined his head with agreement and she continued.

"No, to me love is layered, love is a mystery to be uncovered," Belle said, looking up through her eyelashes at him.

Mr. Gold's fingers itched to record her words, or touch her skin. She was pure poetry. Instead, he smiled back at her, "Very nicely put."

"Thank you," Belle bit her lip, grabbing her own cup to take a drink.

Then, because his lovely day, couldn't last any longer, Remus's cell phone began to ring. Pulling it out of his pocket, he sighed. The display read, _Dragon Lady_.

"Sorry, I have to take this," Mr. Gold waved the phone at Belle and she glanced at the screen.

"Dragon Lady?" her face fell, "That's not a very nice thing to call your wife."

"What? No! No, I don't have a wife! I mean, I'm not married," he quickly assured her, standing up.

"Oh, well, I guess I'll see you around," she offered as he nodded, and walked out side.

But he had barely made it out the door when Belle appeared behind him, "Mr. Gold! Wait, you forgot your napkin!"

"My what- ?" he was confused as she thrust a napkin at him, blushing furiously before running back inside.

The call went to voice mail as he stared at the napkin, inked on it, Belle's phone number.


	4. Disastrous Phone Calls and Dinner Dates

Remus's hands trembled as he held the phone, dialing Belle's number. He was still in shock that she'd even given him her number. Was it a joke? It had to be a joke, women like Belle didn't give numbers to men like him.

He held the phone up to his ear, listening to the ringing. It had to be a fake number.

"Hello?" Belle's beautiful accent said on the other end.

"I- uh- what?" he stuttered.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"Sorry!" he half yelled into the phone before hanging up as fast as he could. It wasn't a fake number!

Groaning at his own idiocy, he redialed her number and she picked up on the first ring.

"Listen here buddy, I don't know what you're playing at but if you prank call me one more time, I'm calling the police!" Belle snapped, "Are we clear?"

Remus blinked, "Uh, yes ma'am."

Slumping back in his chair he groaned, that had been a disaster. So much of a disaster in fact, he would have to avoid Miss French at all costs, crossing the street if she was walking towards him and disguising his voice if he ever called her again.

Which he wouldn't be.

He was so wrapped up in this archaic plan that he barely noticed his phone ringing in his hand. A quick glance confirmed the worse, it was Belle.

"Uh, hello?" against his better judgment, he picked up.

"Hello? Mr. Gold? Is that you?" Belle asked.

"Yes, it is. My apologies for earlier-" he began.

"Oh no no! I'm so sorry! I thought you were prank calling me, and I got upset and, well, you know how I can lose my temper," she paused, and he could hear her take a shaky breath.

"It's quite alright," he managed, "My apologies for the confusion."

"I'm so sorry for yelling at you. I was, um, hoping to hear from you."

"You were? I mean, I was calling to see if you were available tomorrow night for dinner?" he blurted and tried not to sound too optimistic.

"I would like that," she replied. Was it just his imagination, or was she breathless?

"Excellent!" he said.

There was a pause and Belle said, "Um, where did you have in mind?"

"Do you like French food? There's a restaurant called Lumiere's that's quite good."

"That sounds perfect," she replied.

"Shall I pick you up at six?"

"It's a date, then, Mr. Gold."


End file.
